


Found

by Ruriska



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Shimadacest, Shimadacest Week, Sibling Incest, public hand job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 11:24:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9233090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruriska/pseuds/Ruriska
Summary: In a dance club, Hanzo searches for his brother... and gets more than he expected.(Shimadacest 2017 Day 7 - Free day!)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a tad early but wanted to get this one out. :) Hope you like it!

The club is already assaulting his senses long before he enters the building. By the time Hanzo steps inside, he is overwhelmed. It erases all memory of open spaces, as if his whole existence has only ever been this hell. The air is stifling, heated by too many bodies in motion. It clogs his nose with the stench of sweat and alcohol. Music pounds through his head, settles in a chest like a second, erratic heartbeat. Each time it rises and drops, his anxiety spikes with it, until he is gritting his teeth, on edge and utterly out of place in an alien world.

He wants to be anywhere else but he hasn’t got a choice.

Hanzo shoulders his way through the crowd, already feeling sweat collecting on his brow and under his armpits. It feels sticky and uncomfortable, a product not of exertion, as he is used to, but his own nerves.

The people around him disgust him. Young and vibrant, chasing cheap thrills, wasting their time and money drowning themselves in alcohol. Imagining themselves free when society and age is nipping at their heels, never expecting the day when they wake up and have nothing to show from their youth but debts and disappointment.

As Hanzo continues into the fray he is engulfed by the mass. Bodies surge around him, laughing and screaming, bouncing, dancing, swaying. They brush past him, jostle him, despite his efforts to remain untouched. He can feel eyes on him, sweeping up his muscled form, evaluating - just not in the way he’s used to. Somebody squeezes his right bicep and it takes all of his willpower not to lash out. Instead he jerks his arm free of their grip and forges on, continuing his progress deeper into the belly of the beast.

Hanzo isn’t sure how exactly the elders expect him to find Genji in a place like this. They want him to bring his brother to heel, bring him home, drag him along by his ear. All sly suggestions in the hallway, veiled threats, the same word over and over, _duty, duty, duty_. Their father isn’t concerned. ‘He is just having fun,’ he laughs, waving a hand dismissively but Hanzo is still worried, has always been worried since he learnt the power of politics, of strength not of the body but of words. 

So here he is, seeking his brother, to punish him, to save him, to placate the council just for a moment. 

He had expected Genji to be the most magnetic person in the room but that expectation rode on the the assumption of a more relaxed, less crowded space, where he would find Genji lounging, surrounded by admirers, lording over them. Not this wall to wall chaos. 

The music climbs, makes the floor vibrate with its intensity. The lights dim, bright red and green sweeping up and away, leaving everyone in near darkness, they become shadows, dancing on the spot in time with the beat. There’s an exit sign in the distance and Hanzo uses it as a beacon, trying to slip around people to reach it.

A woman stumbles in front of him, drunk or high or simply clumsy, it doesn’t matter. He lets her fall, despite knowing he could catch her, stepping backwards instead - into an unexpected presence. Hanzo instantly freezes and leans away. They follow his movement and Hanzo grits his teeth. The stranger presses closer, chest to Hanzo’s back and when a hand sneaks around to grip his left hip, Hanzo’s restraint cracks. He lashes out, a quick sharp jab of his elbow meant to wind his opponent.

It never lands.

The person behind him shifts, effortlessly avoiding the attack and simultaneously moving their grip from Hanzo’s hip to the crook of his attacking elbow. Fingers dig into the joint, a warning threat. So close, too close. All it would take was a knife in his back and the heir of the Shimada Clan would bleed out in the floor of an unnamed dance club. Panic seizes him and he holds perfectly still, waiting, rapidly running defensive options through his head and waiting for the sharp prick of steel. 

There is an audible tut from his assailant; the sound full of amusement. Hanzo feels a warm puff of breath against his ear.

_Genji._

Relief rushes through him, makes his knees momentarily weak. Genji is found, he can drag his errant brother out of here and breathe in proper air. They can have their unavoidable argument out in the open and go home. He squares his shoulders, prepares himself to turn and face his brother but he never gets the chance. All thoughts are erased, dashed away in an instant, when a hand lands on his right hip for extra purchase and forcibly pulls him back and closer. The rush of heat at the way the other man grinds his hips into his ass makes his head swim.

Hanzo chokes on a sound - a denial, he thinks. He isn’t sure. 

Genji’s nose brushes his neck, teasing up behind Hanzo’s left ear, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

The crowd has molded around them, a pocket, somehow far less terrifying with Genji’s solid presence at his back. Hanzo feels itchy and on fire, intoxicated despite not having touched a drop of alcohol. He wants to both tear himself away and let himself be engulfed.

There is a man behind him. It is Genji but it doesn’t have to be. Maybe it’s somebody else, some stranger he’s letting touch him. Maybe it’s okay for him to be undone in public if it isn’t his brother.

Nobody will know.

Hanzo let’s out a shaky breath and leans back, stops fighting. It earns him the rumble of a pleased hum against his skin. 

Strong fingers, familiar fingers, calloused from years of training, slip from his hip and up under his shirt, pressing against his firm abdomen. Hanzo jolts at the extra contact and needs to be soothed. Genji - no, the _stranger_ (he forcefully reminds himself), moves the hand holding his elbow to his hip, rubs in comforting circles. They sway together, Hanzo torn by his desire, until the stranger starts to move his hand with deliberate slowness. His palm drags along each bump of muscle, along the flat quivering plane of Hanzo’s belly and lower still. The hand deftly unbuttons Hanzo’s pants and then pauses; when there is no attempt to stop him or no obvious reaction, other than a stuttering breath, he continues. 

The hand slips in, wriggles down into the tight space until it can wrap around Hanzo’s stiffening cock. 

Hanzo whines. He’s rewarded for his good behaviour with a squeeze that makes his head swim and forces him up onto his tiptoes, pushing back at the person behind. The other man takes his weight easily, eases him back down gently.

There must surely be people watching, they must have noticed the couple groping in their midst. Hanzo huffs and scans the crowd, gaze darting left and right, desperate to catch someone’s eye, to see judgement and use it to break free. But nobody cares, nobody bothers to look their way. Perhaps they’ve seen it all before. 

A kiss is planted against his neck and Hanzo tilts his head without thinking, allows better access to the soft skin. Genji nibbles at the base of his ear. 

Not a stranger but _Genji, Genji, Genji,_ with his hand around Hanzo’s cock, fingers massaging gently. That was a short lived fantasy because in reality he doesn’t want a stranger to be touching him. There is nobody on earth he would allow such intimacy other than his brother. If the elders could only see him now, their heir coming apart in a crowded club, Genji’s hand cradling him lovingly.

His heart is beating too fast, climbing up into his throat. He feels light headed and unable to resist, there’s no fight left, only the desire to submit. Hanzo relaxes, settles his weight, leans back against Genji’s chest and lolls his head. 

The music is still thundering but the rushing in his ears is louder as Genji grinds against him, frantic little rolls of his hips. He can feel the hardness there, a promise.

He has half a mind to beg to be taken away, into whatever dingy bathroom or back alley this club has, to be filled up, like in every one of his sordid midnight dreams that wake him sweating and hard. Maybe that’s what this is and soon he’ll wake, forced to jerk himself off and muffle his moans in his pillows.

But it isn’t a dream because even in those Genji doesn’t ease Hanzo’s cock free of his pants and hold it, rapidly swelling, for all the world to see. Now people are paying attention, peering through the near darkness, trying to catch the sordid scene in the sweep of the lights. Some of them look hungry, some look amused; Hanzo certain he should feel mortified to be on display but Genji is stroking him in earnest now and he’s too busy focusing on the sensation to care about what nameless strangers are thinking. Let them look, let them see what they could never have.

Genji’s thumb sweeps across the head, collects the precum and when his hand leaves Hanzo’s cock, he already knows what to expect. His mouth is already open, tongue inching out, waiting to accept the salty, sweaty fingers that press insistently inside his mouth. He sucks eagerly and Genji’s ensuing groan can be heard over the music, right against Hanzo’s ear. It vibrates right down to Hanzo’s dick, makes it jerk in the air.

The crowd is pressing in, a wall of people, looking on, no longer dancing, just watching the show. Someone has their phone out, probably trying to take a video. 

A shadowy figure inches closer, bolder than the rest, reaching for the flushed, unattended cock - and pays for his mistake. 

It isn't Hanzo who reacts to the intrusion but Genji. His fingers scrape against Hanzo’s teeth when he suddenly pulls them free and his body shifts to the side, forcing Hanzo to stand upright on his own feet. His hand is quick as lightening, wrapping around the offenders wrist with what must be bruising force. It wakes Hanzo from his lust-filled stupor, enough to step away, to take in Genji’s angry snarl. The muscles in Genji’s arm flex and the man he is holding onto with possessive fury is whimpering from the pain, knees nearly buckling. 

“Genji,” the name is swallowed by the music and he tries again, louder, cutting through the deep bass until his brother’s head jerks up, focusing in on him. Hanzo looks at his brother, the tight leather pants, doing little to hide the telltale sign of arousal, the fishnet shirt that will betray a red flush once they are no longer under such dim and unfortunate lighting. Genji, powerful and strong, vigorous and in his element, everything Hanzo has ever wanted.

Hanzo’s cock is still out and still hard. His fingers shake slightly as he tucks it away, has to readjust himself twice before he buttons up his pants. Only then does he looks up, not sure what to expect, certain that he _should_ be ashamed but the emotion isn’t there. He feels imperious instead, excited and wanton.

Genji allows the foolish man go, steps away and rolls his shoulders. 

The crowd shifts away, the show is over. 

Genji approaches him, seems almost hesitant now that they are face to face and leans in, presses their lips together, soft and chaste. Hanzo lets their breath mingle afterwards, toe to toe, desire a demanding presence between them, ready and waiting. 

“Come,” Hanzo orders, leaning into Genji’s ear to utter that single word. Genji rubs their cheeks together in response, hums eagerly. 

He will bring his brother home tonight, just like the elders wanted. They won’t need to know the rest. He won’t tell them how rough the concrete was on his knees, or how his cheek rubbed against the leather backseat of the car, or about the fingers that dug into the meat of his hips or Genji’s hot breath in his ear, spilling out filthy praise and repeating his name like a prayer.

Nor will he tell them how eager he is for a next time and how he looks forward to wading into another crowd, to hunt his brother down and be claimed again.


End file.
